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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564797">Even Heroes Bleed</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hummingbird1759/pseuds/Hummingbird1759'>Hummingbird1759</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: Voyager</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcoholism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Fluff, Gen, Kathryn Janeway Needs a Hug, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:33:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564797</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hummingbird1759/pseuds/Hummingbird1759</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Voyager is back from the Delta Quadrant, but instead of fireworks and parades, her captain is dealing with Starfleet politics, conspiracy theorists, and PTSD.  Rated T for angst, mild substance abuse, and profanity.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/vodkastinger/gifts">vodkastinger</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a lovely summer day outside, but standing here, one would never know it.  The bedroom was completely dark, sun obscured by a set of blinds and thick blackout curtains. The air had a pervasive musty smell, as if the windows hadn’t been opened in weeks (they had not), the sheets desperately needed laundering (they did), and the occupant of the bed desperately needed a shower (she did).</p><p><em>God, what a state I’m in, </em>she thought, face buried in her pillow.  <em>Captain Kathryn Janeway, Hero of the Delta Quadrant, savior of </em>Voyager<em>, daughter of Admiral Edward Janeway, is a drunk who hardly leaves her bed. I’m a Starfleet officer afraid to get on a starship, a captain with no ship, and a so-called hero that the brass is suspicious of.</em></p><p>“Katie?” Her mother’s voice was gentle, but it made her ears ring anyway. </p><p><em>Go away.  I’m not getting out of bed</em>, Kathryn thought, and then immediately felt ashamed of herself for thinking that.  <em>For seven years, I just wanted to hear her voice again, and now I can barely speak to her. Why am I like this?</em></p><p>“Katie?  Computer, lights at 30%.”</p><p>The lights in the bedroom came on dimly and Kathryn groaned into her pillow. </p><p>Gretchen Janeway, a silver-haired little bird of a woman, gingerly sat down next to her daughter.  “Katie, honey, you’ve got that dinner tonight.  Time to take a shower and get ready.”</p><p>Kathryn muttered a curse into the pillow.  She raised her head and regarded her mother with bloodshot eyes. “That’s today?”</p><p>“Yes, sweetie.  Luckily you can just wear your dress uniform, so getting ready won’t be too difficult.  Now, come on, honey, you don’t want to be late.”</p><p>Reluctantly, Kathryn dragged herself out of the bed and plodded into the bathroom.  As she scrubbed off in the shower, she remembered her crew.  <em>The ex-Maquis need pardons.  The ensigns need promotions.  They all need a fair shake, and they’re not going to get one unless you come through.  Do it for them.</em></p><p><em>Besides, at least the funerals are finally over.</em>  Twelve of <em>Voyager’s</em> crew had been killed when the ship was hurtled to the Delta Quadrant, and eighteen more died during the journey home, giving Kathryn a total of thirty funerals to attend in the first two months after their homecoming.  She’d spoken at some of them; at others, she’d stayed at the back and did her best to avoid the family’s notice.</p><p>After she dried her hair and tugged on her dress uniform, Kathryn regarded herself in the mirror.  In the four months since <em>Voyager’s</em> return, she’d lost about 5 kilograms.  Her uniform hung off of her and her face was haggard.  Makeup would hide the worst of it, but anyone who knew her would see how tired she was.  <em>On </em>Voyager<em>, I was on call 24 hours a day and I had boundless energy.  Now I hardly do anything and I’m still exhausted all the time. </em></p><p>The dinner – a reception for new Starfleet Academy cadets and their families – was the usual procession of handshakes, small talk, and bland appetizers.  Kathryn scarcely remembered who she spoke to.  She might have eaten, or not; it was difficult to keep track.  When things finally started winding down, she made her way to the exit.  As she walked out past the journalists crowded around to get a glimpse of Starfleet’s royalty, she heard a man’s voice above the chatter.</p><p>“Kathryn Janeway!” He yelled.  “Tell the truth!  You never went to the Delta Quadrant!  You’re working for Admiral Paris!  Tell us the truth!”</p><p><em>What the fuck?</em>  She wondered.  Before she could say anything to the man, two security guards dragged him off and a third took her by the arm.</p><p>“Our apologies, Captain.  He won’t be allowed back here again.  Let me walk you to your car.”</p><p>“Thank you,” she murmured, a bit dazed by the interruption.</p><p>Kathryn walked into the apartment that night and finally let the tension out of her shoulders.  <em>It’s just Mom.  No need to give her orders; if anything, she’ll be giving me orders.</em>  “Hi Mom,” she said as she took her shoes off.</p><p>“Hi Katie,” Gretchen said from the couch.  She put down her crochet and said, “How was the dinner?”</p><p>“Same as always,” Kathryn grumbled.  “I’m going to go change.”</p><p>Kathryn returned a few minutes later in her pajamas and poured herself a whiskey.  She hesitated before returning to the living room.  There were so many people tonight and it had made her skin crawl, remembering those claustrophobic days on <em>Voyager</em>.  She really wanted to be alone.  <em>But Mom’s been waiting all day for me to talk to her, or at least be in the same room with her.  </em>She chugged her whiskey, poured herself a new one, then made her way into the living room.</p><p>“I know you’re probably not up for talking, Katie,” Gretchen began. “But I recorded a bunch of episodes of <em>Warp Drive Love</em> – want to watch with me?”</p><p><em>Yes. I just want to be normal again.</em>  She started towards the couch, but something resembling dread gripped her.  <em>Talking.  Too much talking tonight already.</em></p><p>“Maybe a rain check, Mom?  I’m so tired, and I’ve got that meeting with Admiral Nechayev in the morning.” She murmured.  She shuffled off to her bedroom as her mother tried to hide her disappointment.  Kathryn finished her whiskey, and before long, she was asleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Captain!  Good to see you!” Admiral Nechayev said as she rose from her desk, blond hair in a tight updo and uniform impeccable.  “How have you been?”</p><p>“Fine, Admiral, and yourself?” Kathryn replied. </p><p>“Quite well, thank you.  Please, have a seat,” she said, shaking Janeway's hand. </p><p>Kathryn sat down in front of Nechayev’s desk.  <em>She looks exactly the same as she did when she gave </em>Voyager<em> orders to go to the Badlands, and I look like I’ve aged fifteen years.</em></p><p>“Captain, I’d like to have a conversation about your future.”</p><p>It was all Kathryn could do to keep from laughing.  “Admiral, with all due respect, I’m still on leave, and Starfleet Medical has made it plain that it will be a long time before they clear me for duty.  I hardly think this is time to ask me about a new posting.”</p><p>Nechayev smiled in a way that she thought was disarming. “This isn’t about your next posting.  It’s about your rank, Captain... or should I say, <em>Admiral</em> Janeway.”<br/>
<br/>
Remembering James Kirk’s memoirs, she replied, “Well, Admiral Nechayev, I’m very flattered but-“<br/>
<br/>
Nechayev frowned, leaned forward, and folded her hands on top of the desk.  “This is not optional, Janeway.  You will take the promotion to admiral or you will leave Starfleet. The board has discussed your situation, and while your service in the Delta Quadrant was exemplary, allowing you to return to the captain’s chair is too great a risk. You’ve shown time and again that you are reckless, you became much too familiar with your crew, and you were far too forgiving of the Maquis terrorists.  However, as you gained significant experience in First Contacts in the Delta Quadrant, your diplomatic skills are second to none.  When you are cleared to return to active duty, there will be a place for you at Starfleet Command.”</p><p>“I see.”<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t look so glum, Janeway,” Nechayev admonished. “You just got promoted and you’re a celebrity throughout the Federation; half the captains in Starfleet would kill to be in your shoes right now.”<br/>
<br/>
<em>Remember what Dad said: play the game. </em>“Yes, Admiral. I accept. Thank you.”<br/>
<br/>
“Good. There’ll be an official ceremony tomorrow at 1500, here at Headquarters. Have your mother and sister attend; I’m sure they’ll be thrilled.  Not many people can say they’ve had two admirals in their family.”</p>
<hr/><p>Immediately after returning home from the ceremony, Kathryn changed back into her pajamas and crawled into her bed.  Her mother and her sister, Phoebe, came and sat next to her. </p><p>Phoebe said, “I don’t get it, Kat.  You always said you wanted to be an admiral just like Dad.  Now you finally are one and all you can do is mope.”</p><p>Kathryn grunted bitterly.  “I did what Dad used to call ‘failing up.’  Starfleet said they’ll never trust me to command a ship again, but since <em>Voyager</em> is the best news the Federation’s had in a long time, they can’t get rid of me.  So, they’re shoving me off to Command, to get old and boring with B- Nechayev.”</p><p>“Those jerks wouldn't know a good captain if she bit them!  And you should still be proud.  You achieved a lifelong goal,” Phoebe said, trying to inject optimism.  </p><p>“Your father would be proud too,” Gretchen added softly.</p><p>“Yeah.  Sure.” Kathryn groused, and turned her face towards the pillow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Capt- I mean, Admiral!” Tom Paris waved as he called to her.</p><p>“Tom!” Kathryn waved back and hitched up her skirt.  The frothy blue taffeta of her gown rustled as she made her way over to him.  <em>Thank God they let him come to this one.</em>  She couldn’t remember what this black-tie occasion was even about; she’d been on her third or fourth drink of the day when she’d read the invitation.  If she hadn’t had Phoebe around to help her pick out a dress and get ready, she probably would have missed it entirely.  Feeling even more ill-at-ease than usual due to her lack of preparation, she’d allowed herself an anti-anxiety hypospray.</p><p>Tom gave her a friendly hug and tried, unsuccessfully, to hide the concern in his face.  “How are you, Admiral?”</p><p>Kathryn shook her head; three weeks since the promotion and it still felt strange to be called “Admiral.”  She tenderly chided him, “Tom, I’m not your commanding officer anymore.  Just Kathryn is fine.” </p><p>“You’ll always be my captain,” he replied with a warm smile.  After a beat, he continued, “B’Elanna says hello, by the way.”</p><p>Her face perked up slightly at the mention of her former chief engineer.  “Give her my regards too.  How are B’Elanna and Miral?”</p><p>“Doing well!  Miral learned to crawl two weeks ago – a little early for a human kid, right on time for a Klingon kid – so we’ve got our hands full.  We’re staying in San Francisco until our parental leave is up and my folks have been spoiling her rotten.”</p><p>“And after that?”</p><p>“B’Elanna was thinking we could go to Utopia Planitia; they always need good engineers, and I’d have fun being a test pilot.  Plus, Miral probably wouldn’t be the only part-Klingon kid at her school.”</p><p>Kathryn smiled again.  “Have you heard anything from Harry?”</p><p>“Yes, just today, actually. He’s on the <em>Endeavour</em>, seems to enjoy it.  He’s got a review next month and he thinks he might finally make lieutenant.”  Tom swallowed and in a slightly more somber tone continued, “He says he’s worried about you.”</p><p>“That’s very kind of him, but tell him I’m fine,” Kathryn said in a tone that assured no one.</p><p>Tom gave her a skeptical look.  “Yes, m- Kathryn, I will.”</p><p>“We’d better circulate,” she said, indicating the crowd.  “I’ll see you at dinner.”</p><p><em>At least a few of them have had happy endings.</em>  Tom had a wife and baby and reconciled with his father, who loved B’Elanna from the moment they met (and was undoubtedly grateful to her for taming his unruly son).  Harry’s career was on track.  Tuvok was recovering.  She could be grateful for that.</p><p>The evening once again passed in a blur of small talk and small plates.  Kathryn glanced at the clock; it was 2230.  “I think I’m going to call it a night,” she whispered to Tom.</p><p>“I should probably get going too – I told B’Elanna I’d try to get home before she went to bed.  I’ll walk you out,” Tom replied, and she took his arm.</p><p>They stepped outside into the cool night air and Tom placed a gentle hand on Kathryn’s shoulder.  “Kathryn, if you ever-“</p><p>A voice boomed from behind them. “Kathryn Janeway!  Tom Paris!  Tell the truth!”</p><p>Both of them whirled around to see the source of the shouting.  “I’ve seen that guy before,” Kathryn said softly.  It was the same man from that night three weeks ago.</p><p>The man continued hollering, “Tell the truth!  You were never in the Delta Quadrant!  Paris, your father kept you out of the Dominion War!  Tell the truth!”</p><p>“Fuck off,” Tom growled, and ushered Kathryn away.</p><p>“What the hell is he on about?” Kathryn whispered.</p><p>Tom considered this for a moment.  In a low voice, he replied, “There are some… there are just a lot of crazy people out there.  Ignore him.”</p><p>“Right,” Kathryn muttered.  She knew Tom wasn’t telling the whole truth, but decided this was not the time to press.</p><p>Tom got her into a cab and she returned home.  Phoebe was on the couch in her pajamas watching some cheesy sitcom, dark hair in a messy bun and a glass of wine in her hand.  “Hey Kat,” Phoebe called.  “How was the party?”</p><p>Kathryn snorted.  “I wouldn’t call it a party.  More like a bunch of snobs patting themselves on the back for being better than everyone else.”</p><p>Kathryn changed into her pajamas and poured herself a glass of wine, drank half of it, topped it off, and took a few deep breaths.  <em>It’s just Phoebe.  You can do this,</em> she told herself as she came to sit on the couch.</p><p>“How are you?” Kathryn said softly, drawing her knees up to her chest.  <em>Steady.  Nobody’s giving or receiving orders tonight.</em></p><p>“I’m all right,” Phoebe replied.  “Worked on my test knit until I thought my hands were going to fall off, then decided to call it a night and watch a few silly shows.  What about you?”</p><p>“I’m… okay.  It was nice to see Tom Paris again.”  Kathryn took a swig of wine, secretly envious of her sister’s quiet evening.  The shouts of “tell the truth” were still niggling at the back of her mind, and she doubted she’d be able to get to sleep until she discussed it.</p><p>Kathryn continued, “As Tom and I were leaving, there was this man yelling these bizarre things at us.  Something about ‘tell the truth’ and ‘you weren’t in the Delta Quadrant.’  It was so strange.”</p><p>Phoebe blanched.  “Shit.  I knew sooner or later you’d run into a Truther.”</p><p>“A Truther?”</p><p>Phoebe rubbed the bridge of her nose.  “Yeah.  They’re a bunch of wackos who’ve been spreading this ridiculous conspiracy theory that <em>Voyager</em> never went to the Delta Quadrant, and that Admiral Paris sent all of you to spy on the Romulans or the Cardassians or whoever because he wanted to keep Tom out of the Dominion War.”</p><p>Kathryn tilted her head in confusion.  “But the war started two years after we left and ended before we came home.  And if Tom had been in the Alpha Quadrant, he probably would have volunteered to go because it would’ve been the only way to mend fences with his father.”</p><p>“Listen, Kat, you can’t reason people out of a position they didn’t reason themselves into.  Just do your best to ignore them.  If gets bad, we can ask Starfleet to increase your security detail.”</p><p>“Right,” Kathryn mumbled, not entirely convinced.  Glugging her wine, she said, “I’m going to bed.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On a crisp October afternoon, Kathryn ambled aimlessly through the park.  Six months after <em>Voyager’s</em> homecoming, the media frenzy had finally died down enough to allow her to take a walk without being mobbed by fans, but she wore large sunglasses and an old Starfleet Academy hoodie for extra insurance.  <em>Need to get out and see the sun more often,</em> she reminded herself.  She forgot how much she’d missed it during her years in space. </p>
<p>It was one of a long string of days with no obligations – she hadn’t been cleared to return to active duty yet, she didn’t have any official functions that day, and she didn’t have to meet with her counselor.  Her mother and sister had both gone off to a fiber show – Phoebe was displaying her latest creations and Gretchen hoped to build her yarn stash.  They’d invited Kathryn to come along, but she demurred; she was lousy with yarn, needles, and all things related.  Besides, she’d hardly been alone since her return from the Delta Quadrant and was almost never alone during her time there.  Solitude felt impossibly freeing.</p>
<p>A familiar voice called out, “Captain?”</p>
<p>Kathryn turned and saw a young woman pushing a baby in a stroller.  “B’Elanna!”  She made her way over and gave her a hug.  She knelt down to tickle Miral and said, “How’s my favorite Paris?”</p>
<p>“We’ve been a little grumpy today, but going for a walk seems to have cheered us up.  How are you, Captain?”</p>
<p>“It’s just Kathryn these days, and I’m fine,” Kathryn said, standing to meet B’Elanna’s eyes.</p>
<p>“Good,” B’Elanna said, visibly relieved.  “I was worried about you after I got the news.”</p>
<p>Even Kathryn’s sunglasses couldn’t hide her surprise.  “News?  What news?”  <em>Something terrible has happened to one of the crew.</em>  Her heart began to pound.</p>
<p>B’Elanna’s face dropped.  “Oh.  You haven’t heard.”</p>
<p>“Heard what?” Kathryn asked with a note of terror.</p>
<p>B’Elanna’s face was sheer pity as she breathed, “Tom and I got an invitation to Chakotay and Seven’s wedding.”</p>
<p>“I see.  Give them my regards,” Kathryn said in an unnaturally calm tone.</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry, Captain, I thought you’d-”</p>
<p>“It’s fine, B’Elanna,” Kathryn said flatly.  “I’d better be going.  Tell Tom I said hello.”</p>
<p>Kathryn didn’t remember getting home, didn’t remember what she drank, didn’t remember how much she had before faceplanting in bed.  She did remember sobbing uncontrollably before she lost consciousness.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She was led into a courtroom in manacles and the Borg implants in her skin itched as a crowd jeered.  The faceless judge thundered, “Admiral Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway, you are accused of dereliction of duty, refusal to serve the Federation during wartime, and wanton endangerment of your crew.  How do you plead?”</p>
<p>“Not guilty!” She cried as the boos continued and people began to throw rotten fruit at her.</p>
<p>Someone shouted, “You were never in the Delta Quadrant!”</p>
<p>She howled, “But I was!”</p>
<p>The judge whacked his gavel on the bench and declared, “The defendant’s claims are too outrageous to be believed.  Send her to the penal colony!”</p>
<p>As they marched her out, she caught sight of Chakotay and Seven of Nine kissing passionately.  They paused to laugh at her, then resumed their amorous doings.</p>
<p>Outside the courtroom, she found herself sitting next to Tom Paris, also in manacles.  “Relax, Katie, prison’s not so bad…. Katie?”</p>
<p><em>Wait, that’s not Tom’s voice.  That’s my mother’s voice</em>.</p>
<p>“Katie?  <strong>Katie?  KATIE!</strong>” Gretchen Janeway’s voice was full of panic as she shook Kathryn awake.</p>
<p>Kathryn coughed up chunks of God-knew-what while Phoebe pounded on her back.  “Come on, Sis, you need to wake up!”</p>
<p>“Wha?” Kathryn mumbled.  The room spun wildly as she struggled to focus on her mother.</p>
<p>Wide-eyed with fear, Gretchen gently cupped her face with both hands.  “Katie, honey, you were choking in your sleep.  You’re lucky we got here in time.”</p>
<p>“Mmm sorry,” Kathryn slurred.  “Everthin’ jus’… ‘s real bad.”</p>
<p>“Let’s get you some coffee,” Phoebe said.</p>
<p>“Black,” Kathryn managed.</p>
<hr/>
<p>“I’m sorry,” Kathryn repeated during her second cup of coffee.  “I… got some bad news and I overdid it.”</p>
<p>Phoebe took her hand. “Chakotay and Seven?”</p>
<p>Kathryn blinked in surprise.  “How did you know?”</p>
<p>“B’Elanna messaged me when we were on our way back; she said she’d told you about it and you seemed pretty upset.”</p>
<p>“You’ve been messaging B’Elanna?” Kathryn replied disbelievingly. </p>
<p>Phoebe nodded.  “I’ve had a ton of messages, and not just from her; Harry, Tom, Tuvok, your hologram doctor – hell, your whole crew is worried sick about you.”</p>
<p>Kathryn grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself, partly from the lingering effects of the alcohol and partly from surprise at her sister’s admission.  She knew Phoebe had met the crew at their homecoming party, but she didn’t think Phoebe had cared enough to stay in touch with them – or that they cared enough to stay in touch with her.</p>
<p>Phoebe ducked into the other room and returned with a PADD.  She placed it in front of Kathryn and said, “These are all the messages from your crew over the last few months.  I had to set up a new inbox just for them.”</p>
<p>Kathryn stared in confusion at the PADD.  <em>What would cause the crew to send so many messages?  Do I even want to know what they say?</em></p>
<p>Gretchen gripped Kathryn’s shoulder and pleaded, “Katie, you’re fading away from us.  Come back.”</p>
<p>
  <em>How?</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The following day, Kathryn stepped out of a dreary meeting, the topic of which she forgot almost as soon as it was over.  Finding herself at loose ends yet again, she meandered across the street to Starfleet Academy.  There was a certain pond with a willow tree, lily pads, and cattails that she used to love to sit by when she was a cadet; maybe it was still there.</p>
<p>It was, and she found a bench and sank onto it.  The sun was warm, the sky was a brilliant blue, the trees were vibrant red and gold, and there was a slight breeze.  It was a lovely, tranquil scene, but all Kathryn wanted to do was weep.</p>
<p>Just to her right, an unmistakable voice intoned, “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Kathryn nearly jumped off the bench.  “Captain Picard!  I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!”</p>
<p>“It’s all right, Admiral Janeway,” Picard responded as if he were greeting an old friend rather than a superior officer.  “I rather enjoy the company.”</p>
<p>Kathryn was about to tell Picard to call her by her first name, but she decided she was more uncomfortable with correcting a man who’d long been her hero than she was with hearing him call her “admiral.”  After a short pause, she said, “I always used to love sitting here when I was a cadet.”</p>
<p>“As did I,” Picard replied.  “It’s a good place to clear one’s mind, and I could usually find Boothby here.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” she replied absently.  “I miss him.”</p>
<p>The pair remained quiet for a moment, and then Picard spoke.  “Admiral, I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds, but it has not escaped my notice that we are the only two Starfleet captains who’ve been assimilated by the Borg and lived to tell the tale.”</p>
<p>“That’s true,” she replied softly. She turned to meet his eyes and saw a tenderness there that she hadn’t noticed during the debriefings.  Her voice was more breath than speech when she asked him, “Was coming back this difficult for you?”</p>
<p>For a moment, one of Starfleet’s greatest heroes reminded her of her father. “For myself, returning home was… rather a challenge.  And I did not have the added burdens you had, of spending so many years isolated from everyone I’d known.”</p>
<p>“Or of people denying that you’d suffered at all,” Kathryn grumbled ruefully.</p>
<p>Picard nodded solemnly.  “Throughout our history, humans have often tried to suppress or deny the truth.  But what one must remember about the truth is that it is stronger than any fantasy, any conspiracy, any lie.  Eventually, the truth will make its way out.  And when it does, we shall be forced to reckon with it.”</p>
<p>Kathryn bobbed her head slightly.  Not for the first time, she wished she had Picard’s gift for expression.</p>
<p>He paused to adjust his shirt, then continued, “If I can offer you one piece of advice: I have learned to see every day as a choice.  One can choose to step forward, or one can choose to step backward.  After my experiences with the Borg, every day I attempted to take a step forward, and eventually, those steps – even the smallest ones – led me back to myself.”</p>
<p>Kathryn looked down at her lap.  “I’m afraid that for me it’s been a lot of steps backward lately.”</p>
<p>Picard half-smiled. “I had my stumbles along the way as well.  Admiral, this experience will be with you for the rest of your life, but it does not <em>define</em> you.  We are more than the worst thing that has been done to us.  It may not seem so now, but in time, this will become just one thread out of the tapestry of your life.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Jean-Luc,” she replied, fighting the tears that welled up.  “I appreciate your insights.”</p>
<p>“You’re welcome.  And if you ever find it useful to discuss your experiences, I would be a willing listener.”  With that, Picard departed, leaving her alone in the sunshine.</p>
<p>She walked back out onto the main sidewalk and looked around at the towering buildings of Starfleet Academy, Starfleet Headquarters, and the cadets making their way between classes.  <em>One small step.  That’s how all </em>this<em> began…</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This scene was inspired by Admiral Janeway’s appearance in <i>Star Trek: Nemesis.</i>  The warmth with which she greets Captain Picard and the fact that she uses his first name suggest to me that these two characters have a history, and if anybody in Starfleet has a hope of understanding Janeway’s experiences with the Borg, it’s Picard.  I really hope I did him justice here; TNG was my favorite show as a child and Picard is one of the positive influences that made me into the adult I’ve become.</p>
<p>The line “we can choose to step forward or choose to step backward” is loosely based something Patrick Stewart said in real life: “It is what you do from now on that will either move our civilization forward a few tiny steps, or else… begin to march us steadily backward.”</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The following week, Kathryn made her way out of another official function with another set of boring dignitaries.  She stuck to her limits with alcohol – one glass of wine, no more – and managed to be charming even though she hated every minute of the evening.  The party was at a hotel situated on a bluff with a spectacular view of San Francisco, and when it was over, she stepped outside and looked over the city in relative contentment.  <em>It’s not like being back in space, but I think I could have a life here.  </em></p><p>Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out, “You never went to the Delta Quadrant, Admiral!  Tell the truth!  You were never in the Delta Quadrant!  You were spying for Admiral Paris!”</p><p>Kathryn’s vision filled with scarlet.  She thought of thirty funerals in sixty-three days, the Kazon, the Vidiians, the Hirogen, the Borg, Species 8472, seven years of constant watchfulness, seven years on duty with no backup, her crew missing seven years with parents and children and spouses and siblings and friends, Mark and Chakotay both happy with other women… and something in her mind snapped.</p><p>Before her security detail could react, she stormed over to the shouting man, a middle-aged fellow with a pot belly.  “Say that again,” she snarled.</p><p>The man said tremulously, “Y-you were never in the Delta Quadrant.  You were s-spying to stay out of the Dominion War.”</p><p>Adrenaline surged through Kathryn as she swung her fist and connected a right hook to the man’s face.  “That’s for the 12 members of my crew who were killed by the displacement wave that took us to the Delta Quadrant.”</p><p>The man staggered backward, blood dribbling out of his nose.</p><p>Wild-eyed with rage, Kathryn stepped forward and hit him again.  “That’s for the 18 members of my crew who were killed on the way home.”</p><p>Now blood was pouring out of the man’s nose and ran down all over his shirt.  She spat on him.  “And that’s for calling me and my crew cowards.”</p><p>“That’s enough, Admiral,” one of her security officers grumbled with a hint of fondness.  He grabbed Kathryn by her elbows and dragged her off, a triumphant smirk on her face as she watched another officer pull the Truther away.</p>
<hr/><p>The next day, Kathryn sat on her couch, staring out the window grumpily.  Someone had videoed her punching the man – of course – and Starfleet Command was furious.  <em>Nevermind the fact that half of them would’ve done the same thing in my shoes.</em>  She realized sullenly that Starfleet would probably take this out on her crew, as if the crew needed any more reasons to hate her.</p><p>“Katie?” Gretchen called.</p><p>“Yes, Mom?”</p><p>“Admiral Paris is here to see you.”</p><p><em>Great.  Might as well get this overwith.</em>  “Tell him to come in,” Kathryn sighed.</p><p>Admiral Owen Paris walked in grinning from ear to ear.  “Afternoon, Katie,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.</p><p>She raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s nice to see you, sir.  If you don’t mind my asking, what’s got you in such a good mood? I would think Command wants my head on a plate.”</p><p>“A few of them do,” Owen admitted.  “But not all.  And the ones who do will come around.  It seems the public’s reaction to the video has been overwhelmingly positive.  And as for me?  I couldn’t be prouder.”</p><p>Kathryn regarded him with shock.  “I’m sorry, what?”</p><p>Owen affectionately put his hand on her shoulder and said, “When Starfleet declared <em>Voyager</em> lost, I refused to believe it.  I knew that if she had you for her captain and Tom for her pilot, <em>Voyager</em> could survive anything.  The Kathryn Janeway that <em>I </em>know is indomitable and doesn’t tolerate bullies.  When I saw the video,” the admiral paused and inhaled deeply, “that was the first time I’d seen her in months.  I’ve been very concerned about you since <em>Voyager</em> returned – we all have – but now I know you’re going to be all right.”</p><p>“I think I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, sir,” Kathryn said quietly.  She couldn’t say she enjoyed hitting the Truther, but that was the most alive she’d felt in a long time.</p><p>“Good,” Owen said with a paternal smile.  “And for what it’s worth, I think your father would be very proud of you too.”</p><p>Tears in her eyes, she whispered, “Thank you, Admiral.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“With respect, ma’am, what else <em>can</em> we do to her?”  Admiral Paris argued.  “Relieve her of duty?  She’s on leave; she has no duties.  Take away her ship?  We already did that, and she knows damn well that she’ll never command a starship again.”</p>
<p>“What do you suggest, then? We just sweep this under the rug, like everything else with <em>Voyager</em>?” Admiral Nechayev retorted. </p>
<p>“No, of course not!” Paris assured her.  “We have Janeway publicly apologize for losing her temper.  And to stem the tide of disinformation, we release her and her crew’s logs to the public – as much as we can without compromising security.”</p>
<p>Nechayev considered this.  <em>It would be nice to finally shut those kooks up</em>, she thought.  Plus, while she was loathe to admit it, Paris had a point: outside of forcing Janeway to retire early, there was little more Starfleet could do to punish her.  <em>As much as I’d like to be rid of her, forcing her out now would be a PR nightmare, and the rest of the brass would mutiny.  Edward Janeway may have been dead for two decades, but he still has a fan club at Command – and that means she does too. </em></p>
<p>“All right, Paris,” she huffed.  “We’ll hold a press conference tomorrow and have Janeway make an apology – and it better be a damn good one.  Get a team together and have them start going through <em>Voyager’s</em> official crew logs.  I want to see Janeway’s, Tuvok’s, Kim’s, your son’s, and… who was that ensign who had a baby in the Delta Quadrant?”</p>
<p>“Samantha Wildman, ma’am,” Paris replied.</p>
<p>Nechayev gave a curt nod.  “Right, Wildman.  Those are the feel-good stories here.  Nothing from the ex-Maquis, too big a PR liability and they’re not all pardoned yet.”</p>
<p>“Not even the first officer?”<br/><br/>“<em>Especially</em> not him!” Nechayev barked. “Not only is he Maquis scum, he’s marrying a damned Borg! At least he had the decency to leave Starfleet as soon as <em>Voyager</em> came home; saved me the trouble of drumming him out.  And not one word of anybody’s log gets out without my approval.  Understood?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Admiral.”</p>
<p>“And Paris?  I’ll tell Janeway this myself when I see her tomorrow, but make it clear that this is her very last chance.  One more slip-up earns her early retirement.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“I apologize for my behavior last Friday; not only to the man I harmed, but to the members of Starfleet, the Federation citizens, and my family.  I have always strived to embody the finest attributes of a Starfleet officer, and last Friday, I was the embodiment of the worst of Starfleet.  My actions, while motivated by a desire to defend my beloved crew’s honor, were impulsive and foolish.  My late father was a Starfleet admiral and I have always sought to live up to his example.  Last Friday, I failed him in the worst way.”  Kathryn sat down.</p>
<p>Nechayev spoke next.  “Thank you, Admiral.  Starfleet Command has become increasingly disturbed the so-called ‘Truther’ movement.  In order to stop the rumors and preserve the dignity of some of the Federation’s valiant heroes, we are releasing the official logs of <em>Voyager’s</em> captain; her chief of security, Lieutenant Commander Tuvok; helmsman Lieutenant Tom Paris; head of Operations, Ensign Harry Kim; and xenobiologist, Ensign Samantha Wildman.”</p>
<p>“Additionally,” Nechayev continued, “I would like to state publicly that the theory that Admiral Owen Paris would use his privilege to prevent his son from serving the Federation is ludicrous.  I’ve known the admiral for over twenty years, and he has shown himself to be a fine officer and a dedicated citizen of the Federation.  Furthermore, if he had done what the Truthers say he did, I would have had no compunctions about dismissing him from Starfleet immediately.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“God, I can’t believe that Janeway bitch,” Alexei Macellarius groused to his sister as the press conference played on the holo.  “Hits a guy and gets a slap on the wrist from Starfleet.  If I’d done that, they’d have court-martialed me and sent me to New Zealand.”</p>
<p>His sister, Nadia, rolled her eyes and groaned, “Not this again.”</p>
<p>Alexei turned to look her in the eyes and practically shouted, “The Fleet is lying to us, Sis!  <em>Voyager</em> was never in the Delta Quadrant!”</p>
<p>“Uh huh.”</p>
<p>“I’m just saying, it’s awfully convenient that her captain and her pilot were both children of admirals, <em>and</em> that they were gone the entire Dominion War.  Admiral Paris just wanted to get his fuck-up son another chance,” Alexei grumbled.</p>
<p>Nadia sighed heavily.  “Now Janeway’s <em>dad</em> helped plan this too?  Dude, he’s been dead since the ‘50s!”</p>
<p>Alexei folded his arms. “No, but it means she’s got connections.”</p>
<p>Nadia thought for a moment and then said, “You know, you’re actually right.”</p>
<p>Alexei grinned wickedly.  “I’m sorry, did my know-it-all big sister just admit that I’m <em>right???</em>”</p>
<p>Nadia rolled her eyes as only an elder sister can.  “Not about <em>Voyager</em>, about Janeway having connections.  Her dad was an admiral and she’s the protégée of another admiral; that’s probably why they made her an admiral.  If she hadn’t had connections, she would’ve been kicked out of Starfleet for the stupidass way she got <em>Voyager</em> stranded in the Delta Quadrant.”</p>
<p>Just as Alexei was starting to enjoy being right, Nadia added, “But that doesn’t mean they were never there.”</p>
<p>Alexei scowled at her. </p>
<p>“All I’m saying is that if Admiral Paris really wanted to give the fuck-up another chance, it would’ve been a hell of a lot easier to just send him into the war.”</p>
<p>“Admirals’ kids aren’t cannon fodder.  That honor is reserved for people like me and Mischa,” Alexei snorted derisively, nodding to the photo of their brother on the mantel.  The joints in his prosthetic leg clicked as he stalked off.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day after her public apology, Kathryn stumbled into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror.  She looked and felt a decade older than she did back in the Delta Quadrant. <em> Owen was right; the real me disappeared after we got back.  Too many funerals, too many accusations, too many rumors.  </em>She let out a short bark of laughter. <em>I guess the one positive of Chakotay getting engaged to Seven is </em>that<em> rumor finally got put to rest.</em></p>
<p><em>One more slip-up and I’m out.</em>  What would she be without Starfleet?  Hell, what was she now?</p>
<p>She thought of the PADD with the messages from her crew.  She’d been avoiding it up until now, afraid of what they’d say about the pathetic state she’d sunk to and the chaos she’d wrought on their lives after stranding them in the Delta Quadrant for seven years.  <em>You can’t run forever</em>, she reminded herself.  <em>A crew as tenacious as yours won’t allow it.</em>  Sighing heavily, she picked up the PADD and began to read.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>May 15, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Phoebe Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Harry Kim</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hey Phoebe, just wanted to see how the captain is. She looked pretty bad at Lieutenant Carey’s funeral today, and I didn’t get a chance to talk to her before she left.  I tried messaging her, but her inbox is still full. Tell her to write; I’m worried about her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>June 9, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Phoebe Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Tuvok</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Thank you for keeping me updated on your sister. I have been watching the media coverage with great interest, and I can see that as in the Delta Quadrant, guilt is her constant companion.  Please encourage her to reach out to the crew; I believe it would be beneficial for all concerned.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>July 21, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Phoebe Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Doctor EMH</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Thank you for being your sister’s social secretary. As a doctor, I’m certain she is suffering from depression; as someone who cares about her, I’m deeply disturbed at how unwell she seems. I realize my bedside manner is often lacking, but if she requires further treatment, have her reach out to me and I can refer her to a specialist.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>August 29, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Phoebe Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Samantha Wildman</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Phoebe, thanks for taking everyone’s messages.  Naomi told me to tell you that she misses the captain a lot.  She was so thrilled to watch the captain get promoted to admiral, and she wants to know if admirals need assistants too.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>September 19, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Phoebe Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Tal Celes</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hi Ms. Janeway, I hear you’re taking all the captain’s messages for her.  I’ve been having a hard time readjusting to life in the Alpha Quadrant; getting back on a ship still scares the hell out of me.  Has it been any easier for the captain?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>October 4, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Phoebe Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: B’Elanna Torres</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hey, Phoebe, the captain’s inbox is still full. I’m so sorry she had to find out about Chakotay and Seven the way she did; I thought he’d have had the decency to her himself. I love the man like a brother, but he can be a real pig sometimes. I hope she’s doing better after her close call a few days ago. You and your mom must have been terrified; I can’t imagine how I’d feel if I’d had to go through something like that with Miral.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>October 4, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Phoebe Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Tom Paris</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Hi Phoebe, hope you’re doing okay after what happened.  Please tell the captain we’re all worried about her and we’re here for her if she needs us. As a former pig, I can safely say that Chakotay is being a pig and the captain deserves better.  The two of you should drop by and see Miral some time; we’ll be in San Francisco until our parental leave ends in April.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>November 9, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Phoebe Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Tuvok</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I saw the video of the captain’s incident last weekend. I believe violence to be a last resort; however, I did take a certain amount of satisfaction in seeing justice delivered.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>November 10, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Phoebe Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Harry Kim</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I don’t care what Starfleet says.  The family discussed it and we all agree that Truther slime got what he deserved.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>November 10, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Phoebe Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: B’Elanna Torres &amp; Tom Paris</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>HELL YEAH!  <strong>That’s</strong> our captain!!!</em>
</p>
<p>It took Kathryn nearly two hours to get through the messages Phoebe had collected.  Even Chakotay and Seven had tried to get in touch – although, she noticed, not since they announced their engagement.  She decided she’d skip their communiques for now, but that still left her with hundreds of messages.  Every surviving <em>Voyager</em> crewmember had messaged her at least once, most of them more often.  </p>
<p>She had never given up on her crew, and now the crew was repaying her devotion in kind.  Wiping her eyes, she got up and opened the window, allowing sunlight and fresh air into the bedroom for the first time in months.  <em>We might be home, but I’m still their captain.  It’s time to take another step.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>
  <em>November 12, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Samantha Wildman</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Kathryn Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Samantha, I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to reply.  I miss you and Naomi both and I hope you’re doing well.  Tell Naomi that I haven’t been cleared to return to duty yet, but when I am, I would be happy to have her as my assistant, as long as she doesn’t mind being Earthside.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>November 12, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Tal Celes</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Kathryn Janeway</em>
</p>
<p><em>Tal, my sincere apologies for the delay in reply.  I don’t know how much of the </em>Voyager<em> gossip you’ve heard, but returning to the Alpha Quadrant was difficult for me too.  One trick that’s helped me with my anxious thoughts since returning is imagining my mother or one of my strictest teachers telling me to “stop that right now.”  Or, I imagine Tuvok telling me that what I’m afraid of is completely illogical and extremely unlikely to happen. Keep in touch; I know you have a bright career ahead of you. </em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>November 12, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Doctor EMH</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Kathryn Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Doctor, thanks for your message.  I go back to my counselor tomorrow and will ask her for recommendations on new treatments.  I’ve missed your wry observations – any chance you can be a part of the panel for my medical review in March?</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>November 12, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Tuvok</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Kathryn Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tuvok, I’m so happy to hear that you’re recovering.  I appreciate your thoughts on the Truther; not my finest moment, but in a way, it felt necessary.  You were, as always, right; I’ve spent the day reading and responding to the crew’s messages and it’s done wonders for my mood.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>November 12, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Harry Kim</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Kathryn Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Harry, I’m so sorry it took me so long to reply.  I feel like I’ve been in a hole since we returned and am only now climbing out.  Thank you for all your kindness over the years; you’re not just a fine officer, you’re a good man.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>November 12, 2378</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>To: B’Elanna Torres and Tom Paris</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Kathryn Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Tom and B’Elanna, I can’t thank you enough for all your support.  It means more to me than you can know.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Late that afternoon, Phoebe walked into Kathryn’s apartment, arms full of yarn and roving.  “Sis, you awake?”</p>
<p>“Over here!” Kathryn called from the kitchen. </p>
<p>Phoebe walked in and was briefly taken aback at the sight of Kathryn at the kitchen table in front of her laptop, black coffee at hand.  “You look like you’ve been busy.”</p>
<p>She rolled out her neck and said, “I’ve been answering the crew’s messages all day and I could use a break.  How about some ice cream?”</p>
<p>Phoebe blinked.  “Um… sure.  I can replicate us some.”</p>
<p>“Actually,” Kathryn said, heading to the front door and putting on her sneakers, “I haven’t been on a good run in a long time.  Race you there!  Winner picks the flavor.”</p>
<p>“What the- hey!”  Phoebe shouted, scrambling after Kathryn as only a younger sibling can.</p>
<p>By the time they reached the ice cream parlor – Phoebe arrived first, much to Kathryn’s chagrin – both women were huffing and puffing like angry dragons.  Phoebe ordered them each a cone of Rocky Road and they sat outside.</p>
<p>“I can’t believe I actually beat you!” Phoebe crowed.  “I never could when we were kids!”</p>
<p>“I didn’t exactly have many opportunities to go running in the Delta Quadrant,” Kathryn replied, finally having caught her breath.  “I guess I do now, though.”</p>
<p>“Gotta get back in shape so that they reinstate you,” Phoebe grinned.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Kathryn said with a small smile.  “I’m actually starting to look forward to being on duty again.”</p>
<p>Phoebe winked at her. “Somebody has to keep Bitchayev in line.”</p>
<p>“Phoebe!” Kathryn admonished.</p>
<p>Phoebe shrugged. “I’m not Starfleet.  I can say whatever I want about her.  Besides, you know <em>you</em> were thinking it!”</p>
<p>“I will neither confirm nor deny that,” Kathryn said, the smallest of twinkles in her eye.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Nadia walked into Alexei’s room on a winter afternoon when the sun was already low in the sky.  He was, as usual, absorbed in his Truther forums and didn’t notice her.  <em>Has he even left this room all day?</em>  For the last few months, she’d left him alone, thinking he’d drop the obsession and get back to real life, try to get back to Starfleet or try to get his civilian pilot clearance back or try to reconnect with his friends, just… something other than this.  <em>Maybe it’s time to poke the bear.</em></p>
<p>“Hi Alexei,” she said cautiously.  “How was your day?”</p>
<p>“Fine,” he replied, not looking up from the screen.</p>
<p>“Did you see that message from the Shuttle Pilot’s Corps?”</p>
<p>“No,” he grunted.</p>
<p>“It looked important; you should probably read it,” Nadia chided.</p>
<p>“Later.  Dealing with something on the forum,” he muttered, still focused on the screen.</p>
<p>Nadia shouted, “Why is this Truther bullshit so important to you? What are you trying to accomplish here?”</p>
<p>Alexei slapped his desk, finally looking at her. “Sis, the Fleet is lying!  They were never-“</p>
<p>“Who cares?!?” Nadia bellowed.  “So what if they were never in the Delta Quadrant?  Even if you could prove it – which you can’t and you know it – Mischa’s still dead and you’re still a walking corpse!   How is hating them going to make <em>your</em> life any better?  How is proving any of this going to help anybody?”</p>
<p>Alexei gaped at her.</p>
<p>“That’s what I thought,” Nadia snapped, and stormed out.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Late that night, Nadia came back home and found Alexei not in his room but at the kitchen table, still with his nose buried in a PADD and a serious expression on his face.   <em>At least he’s out of the bedroom.  That’s progress, I guess?</em></p><p>“Hi,” she said cautiously.</p><p>Alexei looked up at her, and for a moment he reminded her of the little boy who wanted her to join him in playing with action figures.  “Hi.”</p><p>“Um… I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier,” Nadia said sheepishly, sitting down next to him.</p><p>“It’s okay.  It’s been rough,” he murmured.</p><p>She looked into his eyes sorrowfully. “I’m worried about you.”</p><p>Alexei looked down at the table.  “I guess there’s a good reason for that.  I haven’t really been myself.”</p><p>“No, you haven’t,” Nadia agreed, concern etched in her face. </p><p>“I was thinking.” He paused, waiting for her to make their father’s old joke, <em>‘so that’s what that burning smell was.’</em>  She didn’t.  He continued, “What you said earlier… you actually had a point.  I still don’t believe <em>Voyager</em> was really in the Delta Quadrant, but whether or not they were doesn’t change anything about my life.”</p><p>Nadia smiled slightly.  “I’m sorry, did my know-it-all kid brother actually <em>listen</em> to me?”</p><p>“Don’t worry, I won’t make a habit of it," he said with a washed-out smile.  “But I read that letter from the Shuttle Pilot Corps, and they said that if I want my medical certificate back, I need to get a physical and a psych eval.  And I really miss flying… so.. I think I’m going to give therapy another try.”</p><p>Nadia pulled him into a tight hug.  “Thank you,” she breathed, tears stinging the corners of her eyes.</p><hr/><p>Kathryn sat in the counselor’s waiting room at Starfleet Medical.  She’d hated therapy the last time Starfleet ordered her to attend, after her father and Justin died, but she grudgingly admitted that this time, she’d tried everything else and it didn’t work.  Besides, if she was ever to have any hope of being allowed off-planet again, she’d need a clean bill of health from a counselor. </p><p><em>Not to mention that Mom will never forgive me if I don't go</em>.  She remembered the unadulterated joy in her mother’s face when she disembarked from <em>Voyager</em> at McKinley Station last April, and the sheer terror when she woke up choking six months later.  <em>She thought she’d lost you once.  She almost lost you again.  Forget Starfleet and forget the crew.  You need to do this for her.</em></p><p>The therapist popped out of her office. “Kathryn?”</p><p>“Right here,” Kathryn said, and made her way over.  <em>One more step.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>December 31, 2378</strong>
</p><p>On a chilly New Year’s Eve, Kathryn and her mother leaned on the balcony railing in companionable silence as the fireworks lit up the San Francisco sky.  There had been a time when Kathryn wondered if she’d ever see this again; tonight, she drank it in like a desert wanderer at an oasis.  The grand finale of the show was an explosion shaped like an Intrepid-class starship, undoubtedly a tribute to <em>Voyager</em>.  Kathryn’s eyes welled up with happy tears.  For the first time since she disembarked at the San Francisco transporter station last April, she felt like she was truly home.</p><p>After the fireworks ended, Gretchen gently asked her, “Katie, don’t you wish you were at the party with your crew?”</p><p>Kathryn shook her head and said, “No, Mom, after the last few months I’ve had my fill of parties.  Besides, Chakotay and Seven will probably be there and I just can’t face them.”</p><p>“Oh, Katie,” Gretchen said, draping an arm around Kathryn’s shoulders.</p><p>“It’s all right, Mom.  I kept pushing him away, so I shouldn’t be surprised that he got the hint and moved on.”  Kathryn let out a huff of bitter laughter and said, “I really do have the worst luck with men, don’t I?”</p><p>“You’re still young, Katie.  There’s plenty of time to find someone new.”</p><p>“Maybe I’ll just get a dog,” Kathryn said with a wry smile.</p><hr/><p>In a dive bar in Stockton, Alexei sat on a stool nursing an Andorian whiskey and watching the San Francisco fireworks on the holo.  This bar wasn’t the sort of place one went for revelry; rather, it was the sort of bar a person would go to if they needed to spend the evening crying or scowling into their drink.</p><p>“Of fucking course they put <em>Voyager</em> in the New Year’s fireworks,” Alexei grumbled after the show ended.</p><p>“Tell me about it,” the young man on the stool next to him groused.  “Everybody says Janeway’s a hero, she’s so brave, so determined, blah blah blah.  The truth is that she’s an idiot who ruined all our lives for no good reason.”</p><p>Alexei did a double-take.  “Did you say <em>our</em> lives?”</p><p>“Yes.  Mortimer Harren,” the man said, extending his hand. “I worked in the plasma relay room on <em>Voyager</em>.”</p><p>Alexei blinked.  “You’re probably the only person from <em>Voyager</em> who doesn’t start salivating when someone mentions Janeway’s name.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s because<em> I’m</em> smart enough not to drink the Bolian fruit punch,” Mortimer sneered.  “If you ask me, Janeway’s an idiot.  A <em>principled</em> idiot.  A <em>caring</em> idiot.  But an idiot nonetheless.  She could’ve used timed cobalt bombs on the array and gotten us home immediately, but no, that would’ve been too easy.  Instead, she had to put everybody’s life on pause for seven years.  I could’ve graduated from the Orion Institute of Cosmology by now; instead, I won’t even get to start classes for two more months.”</p><p>“You must really hate her.”</p><p>Mortimer shrugged.  “No, not really.  I think she made a lot of dumb decisions.  I think people have an overly inflated view of her, and that’s probably given her an overly inflated view of herself. I think the hero worship is annoying as fuck.  But credit where it’s due: she genuinely cared for everybody on <em>Voyager</em>, from the first officer down to the grumpy plasma relay technician.  When people on that ship say they’d jump in front of a phaser for her, they mean it, because they know she’d do the same for them.”</p><p>“And what about Tom Paris?” Alexei asked guardedly.</p><p>“Smug pretty boy,” Mortimer snorted.  “Thinks he’s better than everybody because he can fly a shuttlecraft and program a holodeck.  He wouldn’t be shit if his dad weren’t an admiral.”</p><p>Alexei bobbed his head in assent. “So… you were really in the Delta Quadrant?”</p><p>Mortimer snorted again.  “<em>Death</em> Quadrant is more like it.  Organ-stealing aliens, macroviruses, temporal distortions, living nebulas, chaotic space, Borg… it’s a fucking nightmare.”  He motioned to the bartender for another whiskey and then said, “People bitch that Janeway got 18 of us killed on the way back; they don’t realize that it would’ve been a lot worse with any other captain.”</p><p>“Except you, right?” Alexei said in a skeptical tone.</p><p>At this, Mortimer laughed.  “If I’d been <em>Voyager’s</em> captain, we would never have been stuck there in the first place.  But <em>if</em> I had found myself stuck there, I doubt I’d have tried to come back.  Just find some M-class planet and stay safe.”</p><p>“Yeah.  Makes sense.” </p><p>That night, Alexei went home and logged into his Starfleet terminal – despite being on medical leave, his access codes still worked.</p><p>
  <em>Personnel File: Harren, Mortimer</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Homeworld: Vico V</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Rank: Crewman</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Enlisted: 2371</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Current Status: Honorably Discharged</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Background: Advanced degrees in theoretical mathematics, quantum physics, physical chemistry, nuclear engineering, and warp theory.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Service Record: Crewman, USS Voyager, 2371-2378.</em>
</p><p>Alexei sat back.  Another Truther might have pegged the guy for a crisis actor, but Alexei knew he wasn’t nearly important enough for that kind of targeted operation.  <em>Maybe I’ll go read the logs that were released; if they’re lying, they’ll all say the same things in the same way. </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>March 4, 2379 </strong>
</p><p>Kathryn and Tuvok were the last two members of <em>Voyager’s</em> crew who still needed clearance from Starfleet Medical to return to duty.  Everyone else was either back to serving or had voluntarily left the Fleet.  They’d arranged it so that their appointments were on the same day, and after a long day of physical examinations and interviews with counselors and psychiatrists, Kathryn stepped out into the sunny plaza at Starfleet Headquarters.  Tuvok was already there, sitting on a bench under a tree. </p><p>“Tuvok!” She called out and made her way over to him.</p><p>He stood up to greet her.  “Admiral.  I presume from your expression that the panel gave you good news?”</p><p>“Yes,” she said cheerfully.  “What about you?"</p><p>“The same,” he said in his usual matter-of-fact tone.  “I am told I will receive new orders within forty-eight hours.”</p><p>“Wonderful, Tuvok,” Kathryn said with a grin.  “Although this means you’ll probably miss the crew reunion next month.”</p><p>“That is unfortunate; however, it is a poor reason to postpone my return to service.”  He paused and then added, “I must say, Admiral, I am grateful to see that you are thriving again.  Your family kept me apprised of your situation after <em>Voyager</em> returned and their reports were… troubling.”</p><p>“I thought Vulcans don’t worry,” she teased.</p><p>“We do not.  However, we do occasionally have concerns.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>March 20, 2379</strong>
</p>
<p>Kathryn’s assistant came into her office with a light knock.  “Sorry to interrupt, Admiral, but you’ll want to see what’s on the holo right now.”</p>
<p>“Oh?”  Kathryn said, and pushed a button to bring the monitor up on her desk.</p>
<p>The pretty blond news anchor said, “We’re here today with Alexei Macellarius, a former member of the ‘<em>Voyager</em> Truthers’ who has now denounced the movement.  Alexei, thanks for joining us today.”</p>
<p>“It’s a pleasure to be here, Kira.” Alexei replied.  He looked to be in his twenties, with light brown hair, pale blue eyes, and a sharp nose.</p>
<p>“Alexei, how did you join the Truthers?”</p>
<p>“I was in the Dominion War and after I came home, I was in a dark place.  My brother and I both served on the <em>Chawla</em>, and towards the end of the war, we were in a raid on the Dominion that went badly<em>. </em> When they attacked the ship, a conduit exploded next to me and it shattered all the bones in my left leg; I wound up losing it because I couldn’t get to a doctor for three days.  Mischa loaded me onto an escape pod before our ship was destroyed but,” Alexei paused to compose himself, “he couldn’t get into a pod in time.”</p>
<p>A pang of sorrow went through Kathryn as she watched Alexei.  While she was annoyed at anyone who looked down on her and her crew for having missed the war, she couldn’t deny that the rest of the Federation had suffered greatly while <em>Voyager</em> had been in the Delta Quadrant.  <em>Voyager’s</em> journey had hardly been a vacation, but it was easy to see why someone like Alexei might think so.</p>
<p>On the holo, Alexei continued, “I came home in December of 2375, and the next year or so after that is kind of a blur.  My dad died in 2376 – my mom’s been gone since I was 16 – and I went from medical leave to bereavement leave.  For a long time, I’d just lay in bed scrolling through PADDs.”</p>
<p>Kathryn thought of the dark days after her father and Justin died; there wasn’t much she could remember of that first year.   Like her return from the Delta Quadrant, survivor’s guilt had chained her down, making it impossible to leave her bed or eat most days.  <em>He’s the same age as I was back then.</em></p>
<p>“After <em>Voyager</em> returned, someone on a forum I frequented posted that they thought <em>Voyager</em> could never have been in the Delta Quadrant, and referred us to another forum where people were discussing the idea.”  Alexei paused, composing his thoughts.  “I read everything, and for the first time since I came home, I felt special, like I knew something that most people didn’t.  That has a strong appeal when you’re at rock bottom.”</p>
<p>Kathryn found herself nodding.  <em>Anything to feel alive again.</em></p>
<p>“And what made you realize that the Truthers were not, in fact, telling the truth?”</p>
<p>“It was really a lot of little things, Kira.  Like water eroding a boulder.  The fact that Starfleet wouldn’t have kept an Intrepid-class ship and its crew out of the entire Dominion War, the fact that the crew’s logs all told the stories slightly differently, the fact that not everyone had entirely positive things to say about Captain Janeway or the other senior staff… after awhile, it became too difficult to ignore everything.”</p>
<p>“It must be difficult to admit you were wrong,” Kira said, a sympathetic expression on her face.</p>
<p>Alexei cracked a smile.  “Well, my sister will never let me live it down, that’s for sure.  But I felt it was important to do so because I know a lot of the Truthers are in a dark place, like I was, and reckoning with the truth is one of the things that helped me out of that place.”</p>
<p>“If any members of <em>Voyager’s</em> crew are watching right now, what would you like to say to them?”</p>
<p>“That I’m sorry.  And I hope they can forgive me.”</p>
<p>Kathryn turned to her assistant and said, “Julie, get me this young man’s contact information.  I’d like to message him.”</p>
<p>
  <em>To: Alexei Macellarius</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>From: Kathryn Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Dear Mr. Macellarius,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I just watched your interview on the Starfleet News Service.  It takes a strong person to admit that they’ve made a mistake, and I commend you for having the courage to say so in such a public forum.  I know that cannot have been easy.  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>When I was about your age, my father, my fiancé, and I went on an away mission on which they were both killed.  That was over twenty years ago, and to this day, I feel somewhat guilty for having survived when they did not.  I can see that you’re hurting, and I understand some of what you’re experiencing.  If there had been a group like the Truthers then, I might have been drawn into it myself.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I forgive you,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Admiral Kathryn Janeway</em>
</p>
<p>The last thing Kathryn did before she left work for the day was hit “send” on the message.  When she got home and looked in the bathroom mirror, she finally saw the Kathryn Janeway who she’d been in the Delta Quadrant, and her face broke into a broad grin.</p>
<hr/>
<p>To say that Alexei was startled to get a message from Admiral Janeway was the understatement of the decade.  Someone like Nechayev would have made a grand public display of it, as if to proclaim, “Look how humble and forgiving I am!”  Janeway, however, had reached out privately, which told Alexei that her intentions were sincere.  It certainly jived with what Mortimer had said at the bar; this was the act of a deeply caring person.</p>
<p>
  <em>Should I respond?  And if I do, what should I say?</em>
</p>
<p>Alexei took another look at his desk. There was a stack of manuals to read on the new class of shuttlecraft, plus now that he’d been declared medically fit to fly again, he needed to retake the written Shuttle Pilot Exam – it had been over two years since he last sat for the test.  He remembered what his counselor said about moving forward, and decided to take her advice.</p>
<p>
  <em>And who knows?  Maybe someday I’ll get to fly the admiral somewhere.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Alexei and Mischa’s ship is named after Kalpana Chawla, one of the astronauts killed when the space shuttle Columbia exploded in 2003.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>April 4, 2379 – One Year Anniversary of <em>Voyager’s</em> Return</strong>
</p>
<p>Kathryn stood by the bar – a good central location where all the members of the crew and their families could find her.  When Harry Kim walked in, he heard her laugh before he saw her, and his heart leaped at the sound.  It had been much too long since he’d heard it.</p>
<p>“Captain!” He shouted and waved at her, making his way over.</p>
<p>“Harry!”  She exclaimed and pulled him in for a hug.  “I’m so glad you could come.”</p>
<p>“Likewise, Captain.  You’re looking well.”</p>
<p>“It’s just Kathryn these days,” she admonished for what must have been the fiftieth time that evening.  “Although if we’re using each other’s titles, you can call me Admiral, Lieutenant.”</p>
<p>Harry blushed slightly.  “All right Adm- Kathryn.”</p>
<p>“At ease before you sprain something, Harry.” She winked.  “How have you been?”</p>
<p>“Doing quite well.  Did a tour on the <em>Endeavour</em>, got my promotion, two weeks of shore leave and then I’m off to Deep Space Eight to be their new operations chief.”</p>
<p>She beamed at him. “Your family must be so proud”</p>
<p>Harry cracked a grin. “My mother won’t say it, but she’s glad I’m on a space station now instead of a ship – less chance of winding up in the Delta Quadrant again.”</p>
<p>Another voice called out, “Captain!” and they turned to see Tom, B’Elanna, and Chakotay walking in.  Harry shot a worried look at Kathryn, who kept her expression neutral.</p>
<p>Kathryn hugged Tom and B’Elanna and asked after Miral, then turned to Chakotay and said, “So, how’s married life?”</p>
<p>Chakotay’s expression darkened and he grumbled, “Not funny, Kathryn,” and walked away.</p>
<p>“What was <em>that</em> about?” Kathryn asked as the three younger officers stared at her.</p>
<p>B’Elanna playfully punched Tom in the arm.  “Tom!  You were supposed to tell her!”</p>
<p>Tom protested, “Me?  I thought you were going to tell her!”</p>
<p>Harry held up his hands and said, “Hey, don’t look at me.  I just found out yesterday!”</p>
<p>“Found out what?” Kathryn demanded.</p>
<p>B’Elanna sighed.  “Chakotay and Seven broke up.”</p>
<p>“What?” Kathryn squawked.</p>
<p>Tom explained, “Two days before the wedding, they called it off.  Nobody knows why, but whatever it was, it must’ve been bad.  He and Seven haven’t spoken since that night.”</p>
<p>“I heard he caught her in bed with Susan Nicoletti,” Harry interjected.</p>
<p>“Really? I heard it was Mike Ayala,” Tom said.</p>
<p>“Ayala?” B’Elanna scoffed.  “Forget it. He hates Seven.”</p>
<p>“Shit.”  <em>Great job, Kathryn.  Open mouth, insert foot.</em></p>
<p>“I’ll go talk to him,” B’Elanna offered.</p>
<p>“No, I’ll go myself.  Time to suck out the poison,” Kathryn said in a determined tone.</p>
<p>Chakotay had found a table in the corner and was chatting with a crewman who graciously made himself scarce as soon as he saw Kathryn approach.  He frowned slightly when she sat down across from him, but seeing her contrite appearance softened him.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Chakotay.  I didn’t know.”</p>
<p>“Inbox still full, huh?”  He said wryly.</p>
<p>She smiled.  “I finally got it cleaned out last month.  I… suppose I didn’t really understand how much the crew cared.”</p>
<p>“Some things never change,” he said, shaking his head.  “For seven years, you made <em>Voyager</em> your life.  To us, you could never be just a captain.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,” she whispered.  After a short pause, she gently asked, “Tom, Harry, and B’Elanna said that you and Seven hadn’t spoken since you called off the wedding.  Something about… catching her with someone else?”</p>
<p>Chakotay let out a hearty chuckle. “The <em>Voyager</em> rumor mill lives on! No, it wasn’t anything like that, and we’re still on speaking terms, although it’s been a little awkward.  We just realized we were making a big mistake.  She wanted to go back to space and I… well, let’s just say I’d rather not.”</p>
<p>“This crew’s gossip will withstand the heat death of the universe,” she said with a fond shake of her head.  “So where is Seven these days?”</p>
<p>“She’s at the Vulcan Science Academy studying astrometrics.  Earth was just too uncomfortable for her.”</p>
<p>Kathryn nodded. “That seems like a good fit for her.  And what about you?  Are you still on Earth?”</p>
<p>“Yes.  I’ve been off the grid since January, just enjoying being outside and getting a little solitude.  I needed some time to think,” he said, looking deep into Kathryn’s eyes in the way that always used to send shivers up her spine.  <em>And if I’m really being honest, it still does.</em></p>
<p>“About what?” She asked cautiously.</p>
<p>He took her hand and said, “Kathryn, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about the wedding myself.  Throughout the engagement, I kept planning to comm you and invite you, but I always put it off for one reason or another.  Finally, I realized that I couldn’t do it because that would be closing the door permanently on us… and I’m not ready for that.”</p>
<p>“Me neither,” she breathed, and leaned across the table to kiss him.</p>
<p>On the other side of the room, Harry glanced over in their direction and said, “Huh.  I wasn’t expecting fireworks tonight,” gesturing towards Janeway and Chakotay with his martini glass.</p>
<p>“Dammit!” Tom groaned.</p>
<p>Harry and B’Elanna both regarded him with confusion.  “Wait, what? I thought you wanted them to get together,” Harry said.</p>
<p>“Oh yeah, I’ve been waiting for eight years to see that.  But I’m pretty sure no one in the betting pool picked the one-year anniversary of our return to the Alpha Quadrant for the day they’d get together… which means I’m now stuck with hundreds of <em>Voyager</em> replicator rations that I can’t use.”</p>
<p>B’Elanna half-shrugged and said, “I guess the house doesn’t always win.”</p>
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